A Nice Trip to the Woods
by LostinOblivion
Summary: How does re-examining a scene for evidence turn into surgery in the middle of the woods? Tony/Ziva
1. Chapter 1

Ziva was pressed so close to the maple tree she could almost taste the sap glistening from it's open wound. The bark had been ripped or eaten off, exposing the sticky, smooth insides. It almost masked the thick scent of sulfur, freshly fired weapons, which was more familiar scent to her.

Two shots whizzed by and hit the tree behind and to the left of her. Her heart pounding in her throat, but her hands iron steady, Ziva chanced a peak at her target. Two seconds was all it took to see him fighting with the jammed hunting rifle. She took aim just as quickly, and squeezed the trigger once, twice. Both bullets entered his forehead, one dead center, one above the left eye.

She was getting dusty. Rusty? Which was it McGee had said?

She whipped around at the sound of a yelp and a hiss, just in time to see Tony hit the ground. The other shooter was still mobile, still firing on the Tony and McGee. Ziva hit the ground, and used her hard earned skills to maneuver over to Tony in almost complete stealth. Her heart jumped in relief at the sight of him breathing, and clutching his upper left shoulder. Gossamer tendrils of smoke emanated from a small hole in the oak he'd take refuge behind.

He nodded silently. _I'm alright._

She responded in kind, and stepped over him, heading toward where McGee was crouched hiding behind a thickly foliaged pine. She kept low to the ground, and still unnoticed by the shooter, who unlike his companion was using a handgun. Since Tony still had a shoulder, it was likely a small one at that.

Ziva twisted silently through the tall brush and grasses, watching for the tell-tale flare of the gun to see where the shooter was hidden. Bam! Not even five meters away. Unfortunately, so low to the ground, her best choice of shots was the gut. Maybe the chest, if she aimed really well. It was easy to aim too high when you were barely two feet off the ground. There was a tendency to overcompensate, and she had to fight that.

Once. Twice. One was definitely a gut shot, the other she was pretty sure was close to the heart. McGee's head whipped around, trying to figure out where the hell she came from. She rose from the crouch, her knees protesting having held the position so long. McGee started at her in shock, trying to figure out how he'd missed her moving there. She ignored him, and turned back to Tony.

"I guess that was the other guy, not Probie that took those bullets?" He asked when she appeared before him.

"Both shooters are dead, or will be soon." She crouched beside him, and removed his hand from his bloody wound.

This was not good. They were so far off the trail they'd used, she didn't know what direction it would even be in. When their assailants started firing, they'd run like hell through the forest, shooting back, not really caring where they ended up. They were lost, well and truly lost. No path to follow, and no hope in hell of finding their crime scene. No idea how to get back to the car.

"I like a woman that can save my ass in gunfight in the middle of a nature preserve." Tony commented.

"And, you know so many women who fit this description?" She snorted.

"Only need to know one," he grinned.

"Jesus, Tony what happened?" McGee crouched by his other side, face pale at blood pouring from his friend.

"Nice of you to join us, Probie. Dr. David is examining me now."

"We are going to have to spend the night here, can you get wood for a fire, McGee?" Ziva moved Tony's hand back over his wound, and looked at the junior agent.

"Are you crazy? We need to get him out of here and to a hospital!" McGee flailed his arms for effect.

"We are lost, McGee. We have no phone reception, no idea how to get back to the car, and no idea how far it is. I can take care of the wound here, enough to keep him alive." Ziva, of course, seemed unfazed. She'd had a lot of practice.

"And, if we walk, we can find a way out and get him to a hospital!"

Her calm broke. "You do not know that! If we walk, his heart pumps faster and faster, which means he bleeds out faster, McGee! I will not risk that!"

Struggling to calm down, McGee asked, "What about a tourniquet?"

Ziva shook her head. "The wound is in the top of his shoulder, McGee, where would you suggest we put it?"

"So, what are you going to do to stop the bleeding?" McGee stood with his hands on his hips, MIT degree demanding he at least pretend he knew how to treat bullet wounds.

"Remove the bullet, and cauterize the wound."

"What!" Tony demanded, staring at her, face gone pale.

"It will keep you alive, Tony, and if we are lucky, stop an infection from developing."

Tony was surprised to see worry in her eyes, and that really freaked him out. "Have you ever done that before?"

God, was he actually thinking of letting Ziva take a knife to his flesh? Was it weird that that sounded kind of erotic to him?

"Once, sort of."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It was shrapnel, not a bullet, and it was...on myself." Both men's eyes widened, and eyebrows shot up. "My partner was being squealish, and it needed to be done."

"Squeamish." Tony corrected.

"Whatever. I got the shrapnel out, and he cauterized it for me." Ziva avoided their eyes. They were giving her that look. That look that said she was absolutely nuts, and they'd forgotten about it until that moment.

"Fine."

She looked up startled. Tony was staring straight into her eyes, silently telling her that he trusted her. Ziva swallowed, suddenly nervous.

"I think the blood loss is making you woozy, Tony. You just agreed to let Ziva stick a knife in you." McGee's voice was completely deadpan.

"Better her than you, McGee."

"We need to find a place to safely build a fire, and move there. And, I need to examine the crime scene kit for any supplies I can use." Ziva gave directions, her voice thick, scared to death at what she had to do.

"You heard her, Probie. Be caveman. Make fire." Tony banged his chest with his good arm for emphasis.

McGee looked between the injured Senior Field Agent, and the rather scary former-Mossad Officer, before shaking his head and heading off into the woods.

How did re-examining a crime scene turn into impromptu surgery?

* * *

An hour later, Tony lay on his good side, inhaling the scent of pine and spruce, as he watched his partners at work. McGee was building the fire, not yet worked up to full size logs, still adding the larger kindling, and Ziva was pulling apart the crime scene kit, occasionally pulling something out with an 'Ah hah!' look.

"What've you got there, Ninja-Probie?" His head lulled toward her.

"Not much. Sterile pads, tape, tweezers, distilled water, and whiskey."

Tony's head shot toward her, and then McGee. "Probie!"

McGee rolled his eyes. "It's not one of our kits, Tony. Abby's inventorying ours, this one's a back-up last used when Clinton was president."

"Well, that should be a standard item in our kits, hand it over Ziva!" He grabbed for it with his good hand.

Ziva pulled it away, shooting him a look. "Not yet."

"What? I'm in pain here!"

"And, it will only get worse. Settle down." She turned to McGee. "The fire almost ready?"

"Just got two big logs burning." He said poking it with a stick, and coughing as the smoke hit his face.

Ziva moved closer to Tony, and pulled off his windbreaker, his dress shirt, and finally his white undershirt, leaving him feeling very exposed. She took off her own windbreaker, earning a raised eyebrow and a highly suggestive look.

"I cannot work in a jacket. It would get in the way."

He shrugged, and winced with it. "You could work naked if you want, Zee-Vah. I'd be fine with that."

"I am sure you would, Tony. Would it take some of the pain away?"

"Oh god, yes."

Ziva leaned in real close to him, so he could feel her breath on his lips. "That is too bad, the whiskey will have to do."

And then he was suddenly gulping down an airplane bottle's worth of whiskey. It burned all the way down his throat, to a sizzling puddle in his belly. Then Ziva pulled the knife concealed in her belt, and suddenly, he was having seconds thoughts about the whole thing.

"Uh, Ziva?"

"Try not to think about it, Tony. Close your eyes." He did as told, and heard her turn to face McGee's fire. She was disinfecting the knife, he knew that. All he could think about was that hot blade coming at his shoulder, and how he really didn't want to piss his pants in front of Ziva. Or, McGee. But, mostly Ziva.

"Tony, you must relax." He jumped, she was suddenly right beside him again.

"Easy for you to say." He kept his eyes squeezed shut, he didn't want to know anything about what she was doing.

A soft hand brushed through his hair, and he heard her shifting beside him. He was surprised when her hands wrapped around his torso, and pulled him into her lap. She stroked his hair again, her delicate touch surprising him. Soft and slow, she moved her hands at a steady rhythm, and Tony actually felt the tension easing from his body. Was there nothing she couldn't do?

Ziva watched Tony's face as his jaw finally began to loosen from the cringe in had been stuck in. She could feel his body releasing in her lap. She wasn't completely convinced it would help, but she thought it better to try than not.

"McGee." He nodded and handed her, her knife and tweezers. His was just starting to toast in the fire, what she'd use after she was done. He watched Ziva hold her knife above Tony, and took in the worry in her face. She suddenly looked at him again, and nodded her head, motioning him over. "I need you to hold him down, it is going to be very painful, and moving will make it more difficult for me to get the bullet out without damaging nerves."

"You sure you can do this?"

"The bullet isn't in too deep."

"That didn't answer my question." He said.

"It will be fine, just hold him for me." But Ziva didn't look sure, she looked terribly conflicted.

"I can hear you two, ya know," Tony mumbled.

"Then we will stop talking. Think of something that makes you happy, Tony."

"How about you naked?"

"Tony!" McGee admonished.

"She doesn't mind, Probie. Besides, I'm in agony here, and it's only going to get worse. I'm damn well going to think about whatever's gonna put a smile on my face." He offered then a big grin as an example, his eyes still squeezed shut.

Ziva snorted. "Whatever works, DiNozzo."

She didn't bother to wait for a response, before picking up the distilled water, and squirting some over the wound, cleaning it, so she could see what she was doing.

"Oooo, cold." Tony shivered.

"Stay still, Tony," Ziva warned.

The bullet was almost at the surface, so she used her knife to gently loosen it. Blood continued to ooze from the wound, covering her hands as she worked the knife around the small, half crushed bullet. Tony whimpered and moaned, but remained still without McGee's assistance. Then she worked the tweezers around the bullet until she got a solid grip. Ziva turned to McGee, who added more pressure to his hold on Tony, and nodded at her. She gave one good, solid tug, and pulled the bullet clean from his arm.

"Ahhh! Shit! Ziva!" Tony rocked toward her, and finished with an agonized moan, his face against her stomach.

"McGee, the other knife." Ziva handed him the tweezers and bullet, and tried to mop up the blood with the sleeves of her sweater top, but now it was bubbling free, and she had to cauterize quickly. He swallowed and quickly passed her the blistering hot knife, dropping the bullet into an evidence jar.

"Tony, put your arm around me," Ziva directed him.

"What?" He asked, not moving his face.

"You need to grip something, this is not going to feel good. Quickly!" She felt his right arm wrap around her, and wasted no more time. His wound was facing her now, and Ziva gripped his shoulder with one hand. Biting her lip, she pressed the hot blade into her partner's wound.

Tony screamed and screamed, his grip around Ziva tightening, his face burrowing deeper into her abdomen.

She moved the knife to the lips of the wound, holding the edges together in hopes of sealing it with raw, burnt flesh. Tony continued screaming into her stomach, and she could feel her top growing wet where his face was buried. Almost covered by the screaming were McGee's wet heaves as his stomach decided lunch really wasn't important enough to withstand the torture scene.

Finished, she squirted the rest of the water over it, and took the sterile pads McGee had ripped open. It took three of them to cover the wound, and then Ziva held them in place while McGee wound the blue marking tape around his shoulder. She could feel Tony's whole body hot, wet with sweat, and trembling, as he continued to moan and weep into her stomach. His grip hadn't loosened any.

* * *

_Obviously, this will be continued. Two more chapters I think. Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for the reviews! I tried to get this up as quick as possible, and there will be one more chapter that unfortunately, I might not be able to get up until Wednesday. I will try to get it up sooner though. Enjoy!_

* * *

Ziva dropped the knife, and wiped her bloody hands on her top, already knowing that she looked like a slaughterhouse. She picked up Tony's windbreaker, and draped it over his shaking body, moving her arms around him to hold him tight. He remained, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, the other limp on his side.

Like she had earlier, Ziva began to run her fingers through Tony's hair, massaging his scalp gently. She could feel his fingers still curled tensely around the fabric of her sweater, knuckles pressing into her back. One hand still on his head, Ziva maneuvered the other under his windbreaker-blanket, and ran her hand along his bare back. She let her fingers dance lightly over each vertebra, working her way toward his neck and back down. His skin was soft, and she'd never admit it out loud, but she was enjoying the opportunity to touch him.

It took only minutes for her ministrations to quiet Tony's sobs and the steady quaking of his body. Twenty more, and the tension began to evaporate from his body, leaving him simply curled in her lap. Soon after that, he was reduced to putty. Wounded, beautiful, fragile putty that she could have spent all night working her fingers over. But then his voice startled her into drawing her hand back.

"Do you molest all your patients, or am I just special?" He didn't pick his head up, only turned it slightly, seemingly content to leave it pressed into her belly.

Ziva smiled, and stroked the hair by his brow. "Only the ones I know will enjoy it."

"Uh, do you two need a room?" McGee questioned, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.

"Relax, McGee. Tony is just trying to tell us that he feels a bit better, yes?"

"Yes. I'm in no shape to do anything, even if I wanted to. Your virgin eyes are safe," Tony answered.

McGee scoffed, and turned back to the fire he'd been tending. He'd seen the entire exchange, and realized with Tony in his current state, they were both getting away with more than they'd ever otherwise let each other. Uber-suggestive comments and groping, that's what his partners turned to during a crisis. He wondered how many Gibbs-slaps they would have generated had their boss been there with them. Of course, Tony probably would have watched his mouth better.

They seemed to fall into silence, McGee studying the fire, trying to determine how much wood they'd need for the night, and Tony still curled around Ziva with no discernable intention to move. The former Mossad Officer stared into the woods, though whether she was actually seeing anything, neither man would have been able to say. The truth was, she was listening, a sense that she found much more useful in a densely wooded area that was rapidly growing darker.

"I'm going for more wood," McGee suddenly announced.

"Do not go too far, McGee. It is getting dark quickly," Ziva warned him.

"Yeah, you don't want to fall and break anything, Probie."

McGee rolled his eyes, and walked off into the surrounding area. Ziva kept her ears alert, now attuned to McGee, noting every movement he made. The crunch of his feet on dead leaves and dry twigs, a grunt and crack as he broke a large branch, and a soft incoherent mumbling as he spoke to himself. Tony was very quiet, and she wondered if he'd fallen asleep, but his arms were still tight around her. A chill swept through her body, and Ziva realized the sun had taken all its warmth when it vanished.

She grabbed Tony's button-down and under shirt, checking that the blood had pretty much dried on the former. The latter was still a bit damp, and would be too painful to get on him anyway. She pulled his windbreaker off, smirking as he squealed at the cold.

"What are you doing! Haven't I suffered enough!"

"Sit up a minute, Tony."

He curled further into her. "No, I want to stay here and sleep."

"You can lay down again in a minute, we need to get your clothes back on." She nudged him.

"Now, that's something I don't hear very often." But, this time he maneuvered himself to a sitting position, wincing with the movements. Ziva carefully slipped his dress shirt back up over his arms, and buttoned it up. As she leaned toward him, Tony swallowed in an effort to lubricate his suddenly dry mouth. Never had he realized how intimate it felt to have a woman dressing him. Or, maybe it was just Ziva.

Her fingers were so careful as she adjusted the shirt, so warm as she smoothed the fabric down his chest. He was sure it had never taken him that long to button his shirt, but he wasn't about to stop her. He could feel his pulse rate increasing, and thanked god that he'd stopped bleeding. It would have been a little humiliating to die from massive blood loss due to nerves. Or arousal. Tony struggled to look anywhere but her eyes, as she eased him into his windbreaker, zipping him up like he was a kindergartener.

"Now you can go back to sleep." She dropped her hands, instantly missing the permission to touch him. She didn't know what was going on with her tonight, but she just kept wanting to put her hands on him. Maybe, it was the thought that the bullet could have hit something vital, that he could have died. Was she trying to reassure herself that he was okay? Or, trying to take the opportunity she'd almost missed?

Ziva shook her head. Either way, it wasn't appropriate tonight. Tonight, she was his partner, his protector, and his caregiver. She watched as he went to lie down on the ground beside her, and stopped him. "No, Tony. Come back to my lap."

He turned to her confused.

"We need to keep you warm, you will be too cold on the ground," she explained.

Still he looked skeptical. She sighed. "You can curl up in McGee's lap, if you prefer."

His eyes widened, and then he chuckled. "I did always figure McGoo for a snuggler." He spoke even as he settled himself back into her lap, in almost the same position he'd been in. "Never saw you as one though."

"You would be surprised, Tony."

He laughed again, blowing hot air at her belly, and Ziva felt her abdominal muscles tighten reflexively. "Don't I know it."

She smiled. "Sleep now, Tony. You need rest to heal." She felt him nod against her body, and swallowed the shudder he created.

A few moments later, McGee returned, arms laden with wood. He was panting, and flushed with the effort of dragging it back. Ziva raised an eyebrow at him. "It is a little fire, McGee. We are not trying to burn down the forest."

"Just trying to be prepared."

"Boy scout motto, yes?" She asked.

McGee smiled. "Yeah, actually. How'd you know that?"

"I think Tony teased you with it once."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course, he did...how's he doing?"

Ziva shrugged. "I think the whiskey is helping with the pain, but he is exhausted."

That made sense, with the getting shot, traumatic surgery, and whole frying the wound to keep it from bleeding events. The only thing that must have kept him awake as long as he was, was the adrenaline. Hell, they were both surprised he hadn't passed out from the pain. McGee nodded, and turned away, back to the fire, intent on setting it up for the night. He knew Gibbs would be huffing and puffing and assembling a search team, but he also knew they wouldn't start until first light. It would be too dangerous to go tromping through the woods in the dark. With a little luck and Ziva's, albeit questionable, surgical skills Tony should be alright until then. At least, that's what McGee was going to tell himself.

"Come here, McGee," Ziva called him after he finished with the fire.

"Everything okay?" He studied Tony worriedly.

"Yes. You should try to get some sleep, Gibbs won't come until morning." Ziva had come to the same conclusions.

"What about you?"

She shook her head. "I am not tired."

"I could stay up with you-"

"I will be fine, McGee. I have been in worse situations," she admitted.

McGee resisted the urge to shudder. God only knows what she'd seen and done with Mossad, and then Somalia...he wouldn't challenge that statement. Rather than continue arguing with her, McGee lowered himself to the ground.

"Scootch over, we will need to share body heat to stay warm tonight."

McGee looked up at her curiously. "Did you just say scootch?"

"Yes. It means move, yes?" Now Ziva looked puzzled.

"Yeah, you got it right, I was just surprised to hear it." Where the hell did she learn that word?

"Oh, Abby is teaching me some slang."

McGee made an 'o' with his mouth, and nodded. That made sense. He moved to be flush against Ziva's side, near Tony's head, and huddled against the ground and the warmth of Ziva's thigh. He fell asleep wondering what other words Abby was teaching her.

Ziva truly wasn't tired. In Mossad she'd gone 24 and 48 hour periods without sleep; it was a useful skill since most people couldn't go that long. Any longer though, and a person started to become a liability. Until morning would not be much of a challenge for her, it wasn't like sleeping was all that easy for her now anyway. Besides, she was intent on watching over the boys.

She listened for McGee's breathing to even out, already aware that Tony's had. He'd fallen asleep soon after laying down, understandably, and it seemed McGee slept as easily. Ziva was rather protective toward them, because they were her partners, because they were her family. Because she had learned at a fairly young age what she was capable of surviving, and she didn't want either of them to answer that question for themselves. Because, even after she'd walked away and essentially betrayed them, they still came after her would-be killers. Because they forgave her. And perhaps most simply, because she loved them both, albeit in different ways).

Ziva shut her eyes, and focused on the sounds of the forest. On the smells. These are the senses that would protect them in the dark. She enjoyed the peaceful calm of the forest, the smell of the trees-pine, spruce, maple, oak, and the sounds of the animals. The chirps of the bugs, hoots of the owls, the rustling of raccoons just waking up and ready for breakfast. There was a certain serenity in it that she could appreciate. And, with Tony breathing against her belly, and McGee breathing against her hip, she kept vigil through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Help arrived earlier than she expected, though Ziva imagined Gibbs had probably spent the evening on the warpath, yelling at anyone who'd listen that he had three agents missing. It wouldn't surprise her if they'd started out the second the sun appeared on the horizon. Gibbs would have been watching for it.

She heard their footsteps crunching over dried leaves, snapping fallen twigs, growing louder as they neared. Tony and McGee were both still sleeping, and poor Tony probably could have slept through a carpet bomb attack. Ziva moved the hand she'd rested on his head to her hip, unsnapping her holster, ready to pull her gun in case it wasn't Gibbs. Then she nudged McGee.

"McGee, wake up," she whispered.

"Huh?" He blinked sleepily, pushing himself from the ground.

"People are coming."

He was swinging around, looking for signs of people, confused when he could find none. Ziva rolled her eyes, and pointed to her ears. He was still listening a minute, and she knew he could hear them when his hand drifted to his hip, fingers unfastening his holster, lingering close to his glock.

They both quickly fastened their holster's when they saw familiar silver hair through the trees. Bright red paramedic suits, black and gold German Shepherds, and fluorescent orange and yellow of rescue searcher's vests came into view, though Gibbs remained their focus. McGee quickly rose and began kicking dirt over the smoldering embers of their campfire, suffocating it, and shoving the few remaining items that weren't packed, back into the crime scene case.

"We found bodies a ways back. What the hell happened?" Gibbs demanded as soon as he sighted them.

"They attacked us, boss. Tony was shot, Ziva shot both of them," McGee explained, meeting their boss, and walking with him back toward Tony and Ziva.

"How bad?" He directed the question at Ziva.

"His shoulder, not far below the surface, the impact was dulled by a tree. I removed it and cauterized the wound, he stopped bleeding, but I am worried about infection."

Gibb raised his eyebrows at her. "Didn't know surgery was part of your repertoire, David."

She shrugged. "When it needs to be."

One of the dogs chose that moment to howl, spurring the second dog, and jolting Tony awake with a pained moan. "Oh god, what is that?"

"Search dogs, announcing they found your sorry ass."

Tony turned in surprise. "Morning Boss."

Gibbs smirked. "You comfortable, DiNozzo?"

"Ground's a little cold, but yeah, I'm pretty comfortable," he replied confidently. Ziva smirked, McGee just rolled his eyes and busied himself explaining the situation to the paramedics.

Gibbs just smiled and shook his head, sipping from the silver thermos of coffee he hiked in with. There was just the tiniest bit of relief evident in his eyes.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod..." Abby ran into the waiting room, making a bee-line for the team. "Is he alright?"

"Still in surgery, Abs," Gibbs answered, sipping from a cup from his usual caffeine dealer.

A trauma surgeon and a plastic surgeon had taken Tony into an OR to see what they could do about his wound. They had not been impressed with Ziva's skill level, but did admit that Tony probably would have bled to death without her interference. She sat nervously on one side of Gibbs, a cup of tea in her hand, still not feeling even remotely tired. McGee had been slumped on Gibb's other side, but Abby's frantic voice had him blinking awake.

"Hey Abby," he greeted groggily.

"Timmy!" The pig-tailed goth threw her arms around him with enough force to make him glad he was sitting. "I was so worried! You guys weren't answering your phones, and the GPS wasn't working, and you didn't come back, and then your Charger was found empty, and, and..."

"We're okay, Abby. Really. Tony should be fine too," he assured her.

She nodded, and moved to give Ziva a slightly less exuberant hug, which the former-Israeli returned happily. "Did you really cut a bullet out of Tony?"

"Yes."

"You get serious bad-ass points for that. I don't think I could have done that without puking, or you know, maiming him."

"Well, that would have been terribly unfortunate," Ducky's voice drew their attention as her walked into the room with Palmer beside him. "We drove together, but Abigal ran in here faster than anyone should be able to in shoes like that."

They turned to look at Abby's footwear, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Black, lace-up boots, with a good five inches of platform under the sole. It made her look taller, and her skirt look shorter. She shrugged.

Ducky chuckled, and sat beside Ziva, patting her hand affectionately, trying to reassure her that Tony would be fine.

"You got preliminary results on my bodies yet, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Mr. Palmer and I performed a cursory exam on the assailants, and scanned their fingerprints. Both healthy young men in their late twenties identified as Tobey Johnson and Kyle Flannigan, brother to Corporal Thomas Flannigan, our deceased Marine. Abby examined their weapons," he finished, nodding to the goth.

"Johnson's 22 matches the bullets from the Corporal. I'm guessing he found out what his brother was into, tried to stop it, and got killed for it," she explained.

"Any idea why they returned to the crime scene?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, actually," Ducky told him. "We found one of those portable computer drives in Kyle Flannigan's pocket, Abigail examined it for us."

"It's a USB drive, Ducky," she corrected. "And, it has all the records for their business."

Gibbs nodded. "When they realized we didn't have it, they went back for it."

"I believe so, Jethro." Ducky nodded to him.

"You were right, we did miss something out there, Boss," McGee said. He was staring toward the ground, forlorn expression a clear sign he was beating himself up.

"Not your fault, McGee. Stop blaming yourself, DiNozzo's fine." Gibbs sipped his coffee, and glanced toward the surgical wing.

McGee looked up at Gibbs, and then down at his hands again. If they'd found that damn USB drive the first time, they wouldn't have had to go back, and Tony wouldn't have taken a bullet. Abby twined her arm with his, and leaned heavily against him. Palmer sat beside her, ram-rod straight, staring off into space. It's always jolting when a team member is injured.

"David, with me." Gibbs suddenly instructed, standing up, and heading down the hall. Frowning, Ziva rose and followed after him, not a clue as to where they were going.

Gibbs didn't comment as he led the way down the hall, but stopped at what looked like an empty x-ray suite and gestured her in. Now Ziva was really at a loss, but still obeyed without question. He closed the door, and gestured her to a chair in the office. She sat.

"You're being awful quiet, Ziver."

"I do not have anything to say."

"Why do you suppose that is?" He didn't sit, but leaned on the desk next to her.

"What should I say, Gibbs?"

"Whatever you're feeling."

Ziva pressed her lips together and looked at him. "Afraid."

Gibbs eyes flickered with surprise, the only part of his body not completely conditioned to project eternal apathy. He expected guilt, not fear. "Of what?"

She glanced away, and then focused on the ground. "Have you ever had an open wound cauterized?"

"Nope."

"It is very painful, and while it is not a long process, it isn't a quick one." Ziva inhaled. "He was screaming and shaking while we held him down, Gibbs. McGee threw up afterward. It was...horrible."

"You're afraid that what...he won't forgive you? I think he already has, Ziva."

"No. I am afraid I will always hear him screaming."

"Why is it bothering you now?" She seemed fine when they found her and the boys, worried about Tony, but fine.

She sighed. "It is easy to do what needs to be done in the moment in needs to be done, you have no time to think of anything else. It is living with it afterward that is not so easy."

She knew Tony wasn't mad at her, but that didn't change the fact that now that they were out of peril, her mind kept returning to that sound. She'd ignored it at the time, too focused on keeping him from going into shock-a minor miracle in itself. Now, she couldn't ignore it.

"You saved his life, Ziver."

She nodded. "I just wish I had not had to hurt him."

Gibbs sighed, long and tiredly. When was his team going to catch a break? He wrapped an arm against Ziva and pulled her against his chest, offering her comfort she was hopefully not to stubborn to receive. He had a feeling it wasn't the first time she'd heard screams like that, or the first time she'd been the one causing them. He also knew, she'd probably been the one screaming like that once or twice. Much of her past was very dark, and he wished she'd open up to someone and share that burden.

"Uh, excuse me, but you can't be in here." A young man in blue scrubs stood at the door awkwardly.

"We're leaving," Gibbs answered, stepping away from Ziva and gesturing her out.

"Oh, there you are!" Ducky greeted as returned to the waiting area. "A nurse just appeared and said the surgery went well. A doctor should be out to speak to us momentarily."

Gibbs nodded, and Ziva looked a little relieved.

"Are you all here for Agent DiNozzo?" The trauma surgeon was the one speaking, but both doctors came out to speak with them.

"Yeah, how's he doing?" Gibbs asked, turning to them.

"Very good. We repaired the area were the bullet penetrated, and cleaned up the cauterized skin. There will be visible scarring, but it shouldn't be too ugly. Once we get him into recovering, we going to hook him up to a drip and antibiotics. You can see him once the nurses have him settled." The two doctors watched the collective sigh of relief, answered the few questions they had, and disappeared when a nurse arrived.

The first thing Tony noticed was light, bright white light blaring into his eyeballs, making him snap his eyelids closed. His first thought was that it was the proverbial white light to follow up to the afterlife? His second, was why did it have to be so damn bright? What is some sort of sadistic test-you make it into that light, you get heaven...or whatever? He groaned, and became aware of movement beside him, followed by a nervous squeak of a voice.

"Tony?" He blinked and groaned until black braided pigtails, and spiked leather came into view.

"Ahhs?" His dry, unused throat prevented him from saying her name right. It didn't bother her. '

"Tony!" She shrieked and enveloped him in a gentle hug-at least gentle for Abby. It was Gibbs who stuck a straw in his mouth after she finally released him.

"Thanks, Boss," he said breathily, after a hearty sip.

"Stop getting into trouble, DiNozzo." Gibb's face held a bemused expression as he set the cup back on the tray.

"I'll work on that, Boss."

Gibbs nodded, apparently satisfied. "You've got two weeks, then you're back on a desk."

"And, when do I get out of here?"

"A few days," McGee supplied. "Because of the trauma with the injury, they want you here for a couple days, but they didn't seem terribly worried."

Tony's expression became suddenly less exuberant, and he looked up at the TV. "Does that thing have a DVD player?"

Palmer was closest, and turned to study it. "Sorry Tony, doesn't look like it."

"I've got a portable player, Tony. Tell me what movies you want from your apartment, and McGee and I will get them." Abby volunteered them without a word to McGee.

It wasn't as if he could ever say no to her, and extra time with Abby wasn't a bad thing.

"Thanks, Abs. Bond I think, it's been a while since I did a Bond marathon." That should get him through at least a day.

They all talked a bit longer, but eventually decided to leave him to rest. They all also had paperwork to get to; it was simply amazing how much paper work three missing agents, two dead bodies, and a gunshot wound generate. And then, there were the bodies and evidence Ducky, Palmer and Abby would be working on. This all, on very little sleep.

"Zi, you mind sticking around a while?" Tony asked, a tinge of nervousness to his voice.

She looked at Gibbs, who glanced at Tony and nodded. She hung back as the rest of the group shuffled out the door, and as Gibbs left, he called back a last parting instruction.

"No chasing around the nurses, DiNozzo, they've got better things to do!"

Tony didn't bother responding to Gibbs' rapidly disappearing back. Instead he turned to Ziva, who'd taken a seat in the chair by the bed.

"Movie?" He asked, nodding to the mounted TV.

Ziva nodded, and searched for the remote, locating it in the stand by the bed. She flicked the TV on, and then handed the device to Tony. He channeled surfed until he stumbled across 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir', and his face lit up in a big smile.

"This is a classic. I saw it the first time when I was eight, the first love story I actually managed to sit through. It was so sad it stuck in my head...sad, but beautiful, you know?"

"I don't think I've ever heard of it." She frowned, trying to place it in her mind, unsuccessfully.

"Then saddle up, you're in for a treat. They have tissues somewhere?" He looked around, as Ziva held up the box from the bed stand.

The movie was already in a half and hour, so he explained to her what they missed, and then clicked up the volume. After fifteen minutes, Ziva rested her head on the bed beside him, and he was only a little disappointed when she quickly fell asleep, the top of her head flush against his chest.

At least, now he'd have a good excuse to invite her over. Things hadn't been quite the same since she returned earlier in the year, and he missed her company. The easy intimacy they'd shared once. Platonic intimacy, but still, it was special to him. He'd never been that close to a woman. Note even Jeanne or Kate.

Tony raised a hand to gently touch her head, fingers barely making contact with her curls. When she didn't flinch or spring awake and thrust a gun to his head, he allowed for a little more pressure, enough so that his fingers sunk into the curls and brushed her scalp. Ziva remained asleep. He relaxed into the pillows and turned back to the movie.

It had been one of his mother's favorites, and probably his first lesson about love. Beyond the snuggly kumbaya of cartoons and the exaggerated horror of soap operas. By that time, his mother was already drinking like a fish, so he learned nothing from his parents. But Lucy Muir and Captain Gregg, that was something breathtakingly painful enough to capture his imagination.

His fingers continued to play over Ziva's hair as he watched the film, stoking the curls mindlessly. Affectionately.

Maybe getting shot wasn't such a bad thing.

* * *

_Okay, here's the deal. This was originally the last chapter, but after editing it, I realize that things feel unfinished. So, I'm going to try to write another chapter, but I can't promise it will be posted soon. It's going to take some time to figure out where I want it to go and eventually end. So, thank you all for your patience, and of course, the reviews for the previous chapters. _


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, so this isn't fantastic, but I had serious issues trying to figure out what to write, seeing as how I kind of ended it already. Anyway, I hope this satisfies, and I appreciate everyone that takes the time to read it. Reviews, of course, always appreciated. _

* * *

Tony DiNozzo was much happier than he should have been at the moment. But, pain killers did wonders and the savory smells wafting out of his kitchen were reviving the apetite he'd lost after days of hospital food. Most tantalizing was the fact that a certain Israeli was sashaying around his kitchen, preparing him dinner.

He had watched her make sausage earlier, fingers delicately kneading the meat and spice mixture together, and for the first time in his life, Tony longed to be pork. The memory of her hands in his hair and along his bare back was still very vivid in his mind, so much that he found himself staring and daydreaming when she was near. He'd even felt the need to ask his doctor yesterday before he checked out of the hospital, if the pain meds had an effect on his libido. The older man had given him a strange look, and commented that he'd never heard of that effect.

Tony knew he had to get himself under control. If he was still staring at her when he went back to work, Gibbs would read his face instantly, and then headslap him into another hospital stay. Not only was mentally undressing his partner against Gibbs' rules, but Ziva was like a daughter to the man, and Tony knew that Leroy Jethro Gibbs was rather protective of his adopted daughters. Even if she used to be an assassin.

As for Ziva herself, well she seemed to have reverted back to her post-Somalia withdrawn quiet phase. It both puzzled and troubled him. She'd volunteered to stay with him a few days and help him out, and Gibbs had given her the green light to take a few days off. She'd taken him home yesterday, and spent the time since busying herself with whatever needed to be done. Tony had insisted earlier that she didn't need to cook, that he'd just order a pizza, but she'd forcefully commented that pizza wasn't food suited to assist healing. He needed real food.

He hadn't bothered arguing, but let her do whatever she wanted.

So, Tony camped out on his sofa, and kept out of her way. He'd spent the day watching various cops shows on TV, and scoffing when they messed up procedure. Like shooting warning shots into the air. Seriously? No cop ever did that, not when they would have no idea where it was land (like maybe their nearby partner, or a civilian hiding somewhere?), and had to account for every bullet that left their gun barrels. _Uh, sure boss, bullet went, uh, yep, definitely went somewhere. _

Duh.

"Are you still watching these stupid shows?" Ziva asked, setting a plate of food, silverware and a napkin on a TV tray for him.

"Hey, hey, not all of them are stupid. This is a new one, with a super hot CIA agent, and you know about my weakness for spies." He leered.

"I did not know you thought of James Bond quite that way."

Tony gagged on the hot, yummy food he'd just put in his mouth, and had to concentrate on swallowing. "While Bond has his virtues, he wasn't the spy I was referring to."

Rather than shoot another zinger as he expected, Ziva said simply, "Eat your dinner before it gets cold." Then she was heading back to the kitchen.

Having had enough of quiet-distant Ziva, Tony set the plate down, and hopped off the couch, following her to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" She demanded when she saw him. "You should be eating and resting."

"Yeah, my shoulder, not my legs, and as you can see, I'm not doing anything with it." He gestured to sling holding him arm immobile.

"Your food will get cold."

"That's what the microwave is for."

"Go sit down, Tony."

He shook his head. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

"What do you mean?" She thrust her hands on her hips, defensive, aggressive.

"You've been weird for days. You barely talk to me, unless you're telling me to eat, or rest, or be careful, or go to bed, and you look like you're in outerspace half the time. What is going on with you?"

She sighed. "Nothing, I am fine."

"Damn it, Ziva. You are not. You're babying me, you don't baby!"

"You are injured, you require care!"

"Not a nursemaid!"

"Fine, you would like me to go, I will go!"

Tony groaned loudly. "No, I don't want you to go! I want you to tell me what I did wrong, what I did to upset you!"

And, then her face suddenly seemed to change, the anger falling away, the defensiveness disappearing. "You did nothing wrong, Tony," she said softly.

"Then what...what changed?"

Ziva sighed, and waved him into a seat, falling tiredly into one herself. "I have done horrible things, Tony, and I have had them done to me. There was a time that I could forget, or at least I did not dwell on any of it. But now, perhaps it is all of you, or just that everyone has their limits, but I can not stop hearing you screaming and crying. I can not block it out of my head."

Tony sat watching her open-mouthed. "Ziva, you saved my life."

She said nothing, just looked toward the stove, where she had been storing leftovers.

"You don't think I'm mad at you, do you?"

"No, I know you are grateful."

Tony just stared at her, absolutely lost on what to tell her. What to say to make her realize she'd done nothing wrong, that the screaming in her head was unnecessary guilt. He sighed. "Ziva, you are the only person in the world who would cut a bullet out of my shoulder, and at the same time try and distract me from the pain with innuendo. Have I thanked you for that yet?"

"You have not said the words, but I knew it."

"Well, then let me say the words," he paused and gripped her shoulders, "Thank you, Ziva, for saving both mine and McGee's asses with your firearms skills, and saving mine a second time with your unexpected medical talents."

"You're welcome." She resisted the urge to look away from his eyes.

He could see that she still wasn't convinced, so Tony made a quick decision, fueled no doubt by the innuendo they'd swapped that fateful night. He put his hand on the side of her head, and pulled her lips to his. Ziva didn't resist. She stiffened at first, but then pressed her soft lips even firmer into his, and Tony was surprised to feel her trembling.

Trembling. Ziva David. In _his _arms. Since when did she do that?

Ziva teased his lips with her tongue until he parted them enough for her to deepen the kiss, and pressed her body against his with a neediness she had never experienced before. She could feel her body flushed with heat, her heartbeat like a snare drum in her head. She wasn't surprised when Tony's arm wrapped around her waist, and drew her toward him. She was startled when he, only moments later, broke the heady kiss, and put space in between them.

He was panting, his eyes shut as he tried to regain his breath. His lips were flushed a deep pink, and swollen, plump, and very enticing. But, Ziva stood patiently, resisting the urge to quell the burning low in her belly. Then he opened his eyes.

"That was...dizzying," he spoke slowly, deliberately, as if coming down from a high.

"Then why did you stop it?"

"Because, if I didn't stop it then, I wouldn't have been able to later, and if I'm going to have you naked in my arms, I want both arms to work with." He gestured to his cast.

Ziva very nearly blushed. "Of course."

Tony shifted nervously on his feet, and cleared his throat. "Would you settle for dinner and snuggling?"

The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. "I think that would be...nice."

"Great, grab a plate, I'll work on reheating mine." He nodded his head, still trying to stop all the spinning inside his skull.

Ziva nodded, and finished what she'd been doing, scooping food onto a plate, and storing the rest in containers. When she went back to work, Tony would have plenty of leftovers to eat. Not that she was afraid he'd starve, he had one good arm to dial out for delivery, but still, his cholesterol was probably high enough. She also grabbed two glasses of ice water.

When she got to the living room, she found Tony digging through his vast film collection. He plucked a DVD out with a triumphant smile, and set it up in his very expensive DVD player. Tony handed her the case as he sat beside her on the couch, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"You fell asleep the first time."

"And, it is that important that I see this movie?"

"It's a good movie."

Ziva smiled at that simple, and very Tony-like explanation. "Alright, let's watch."

Grinning happily, Tony got comfortable on the sofa, sitting barely inches from her, and hit the play button. Thirty minutes in, after they'd finished eating, and the heat between them had sufficiently cooled, Tony risked putting his good arm around her shoulder. With no hesitation, Ziva slid closer to him, and rested her head on the crook of his arm, her hand tangled in the fingers sticking out of his sling.

This time she stayed awake, and for the first time in days, it was quiet in her head. Not completely silent, but not as loud and overpowering as it hand been. It was a start.

When her tears dripped onto his t-shirt, Tony kissed the top of her head, and held her a little tighter. He also said a silent prayer that he'd heal quickly.

He didn't realize that it hadn't actually been silent until Ziva agreed, amusement coloring her voice.


End file.
